Chapter 9: Eviction Notice
Inside Liam’s ultra-luxurious, private Manhattan penthouse, the heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight, casting dark, depressing shadows across the sprawling living room.
Liam was slumped deep into the cushions of the sofa, a picture of total defeat, clutching a half-empty bottle of cheap bourbon. His hair was a mess, his eyes sunken.
Khloe, who had been bailed out hours ago and was currently sporting a thick bandage across her broken nose, sat on the floor at his feet. She was sobbing uncontrollably, tugging desperately at the fabric of his pant leg.
“Mr. Lawson… Liam, what are we going to do?!” Khloe wailed, her voice thick with panic. “The police completely froze my Cayman offshore accounts! I can’t access a single penny! My credit cards are declining! And Lexi is crying in lockup every single day, begging to see you! You have to do something! Fix this!”
“Do something?! What the hell can I possibly do?!” Liam exploded, violently smashing the bourbon bottle against the pristine white wall. The glass shattered, raining amber liquid everywhere. His eyes were bloodshot with absolute rage. “That bitch Serena stole my entire company! The Feds froze all my personal bank accounts this morning! You want money, Khloe? Where the hell am I supposed to get it?!”
Ding-dong.
The sharp, sudden ring of the penthouse doorbell shattered the dead silence of the apartment like a gunshot.
Khloe shrieked, scrambling backward and cowering behind the sofa. “Is it the police?! Are they back for me?!”
Liam gritted his teeth, stomped furiously over to the foyer, and violently yanked the heavy front door open.
A courier in a standard delivery uniform stood there, holding a thick, ominous blue folder. But he wasn’t alone.
Standing right behind the courier was me. I was wearing a sharp, tailored black pantsuit, holding Gracie’s hand, looking perfectly calm and radiant in the dim hallway. Flanking me on both sides were four heavily armed US Marshals wearing tactical vests, and two of my personal, towering bodyguards.
“Liam Lawson?” the courier asked mechanically, unfazed by Liam’s wild appearance. “I have urgent, federal legal documents requiring your signature.”
The moment Liam’s eyes locked onto mine, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together audibly.
“Serena… you venomous snake,” he hissed, gripping the doorframe. “Haven’t you ruined my family enough? You took my company! You took my money! You dare show your face at my private home?!”
“Oh, I just tagged along with the US Marshals to watch a good show,” I replied lightly, brushing past him. I pushed Liam aside with my shoulder and walked straight into the grand living room with Gracie and the armed federal agents trailing behind me.
Seeing me enter with law enforcement, Khloe turned ghostly pale. She screamed, backing away toward the kitchen. “Serena! This is Mr. Lawson’s private property! You are trespassing! I am calling the cops!”
“Call them,” I offered generously. I pulled up a velvet dining chair, sat down, crossed my legs, and casually tossed the thick blue folder onto the expensive rug at Liam’s feet.
“Liam, since you are currently under active federal investigation for hundreds of millions in corporate tax fraud, and for illegally embezzling the Sterling Family trust funds to hide marital assets…” I looked at him, my tone as cold and hard as a glacier. “The IRS and the FBI successfully petitioned the federal court for a pre-trial asset seizure. That folder contains a federal judge’s warrant for the immediate, total confiscation of all your properties.”
My lead private security contractor stepped forward, handing Liam a separate piece of paper. “Furthermore, Mr. Lawson, Miss Sterling is the sole owner of the shell corporation that owns the deed to this very building. Since you have been formally terminated from Vanguard with cause, your corporate housing privileges are revoked. You have exactly ten minutes to pack a single bag of clothes before my men physically escort you off the premises.”
“Seized?!” Liam looked as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. He dove to the floor, grabbing the documents with violently trembling hands. He stared at the bold ink of the federal judge’s signature.
“Impossible! This is my private property! Serena, you cannot do this!” Liam shrieked, tears of sheer panic welling in his eyes. “You are driving me to my grave! You are leaving me with nothing!”
“You built your fake wealth on the back of my grandfather’s investments, then you used my stolen assets to buy luxury mansions and sports cars for your cheap mistress,” I sneered down at him, feeling absolutely zero pity. “Today, Liam, I am just taking back every single dime that belongs to me and Gracie.”
Hearing that the multi-million-dollar penthouse was officially being seized by the government, sheer, animalistic panic flashed in Khloe’s eyes. Completely ignoring Liam’s breakdown, she scrambled off the floor, grabbed her giant Hermès tote bag, and bolted for the front door like a rat fleeing a sinking ship.
“Mr. Lawson, I’m sorry! I refuse to go to a federal prison for you! I am leaving!” Khloe shrieked, pushing past a Marshal.
“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” I asked, my voice cutting through the air.
My two female bodyguards moved like lightning. They intercepted Khloe right at the foyer, twisting her arms into a brutal, agonizing submission hold, forcing her face down hard onto the cold marble floor.
Her heavy bag flew out of her hands, hitting the ground. The zipper burst, spilling thick gold bars, wads of foreign cash, and several international bank cards all over the floor tiles. She was planning to flee the country.
“Let me go! Liam! Help me!” Khloe thrashed wildly against the boots of the guards, sobbing hysterically. “I’m carrying your baby! Save your son!”
“Baby?”
I stood up, walking over and looking down at her fear-twisted, bruised face pressed against the floor.
“Khloe, your private OB/GYN records from Mount Sinai Hospital were legally subpoenaed and emailed to me this morning by my legal team.” I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket and dropped it on her head. “You completely faked the ultrasound. There is no baby. You are not pregnant. It was nothing but a cheap bargaining chip to force Liam to buy you this condo before I found out about the affair.”
I slowly turned to look at Liam, who was frozen in shock. “Tell me, Liam… do you still think she is your true love?”
Hearing this absolute betrayal, Liam snapped his head up. He stared murderously at Khloe pinned on the floor. The sheer, overwhelming stress and rage caused a blood vessel in his nose to pop, and a drop of dark blood fell onto the expensive rug.
“You… you actually lied to me?!” he roared like a madman, lunging toward her, only to be held back by the Marshals. “You ruined my life for a lie?!”
“Ten minutes are up,” the lead US Marshal announced, waving his hand coldly. “Clear them both out.”
The Marshals immediately began slapping federal seizure seals on the doors. Liam and Khloe, screaming obscenities at each other, were dragged by their collars by the guards like dead, rabid dogs. They were thrown forcefully out of the apartment building, tossed onto the busy street amidst utter chaos and public humiliation.
I held Gracie’s hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her small fingers, and calmly walked out of the building that had once symbolized his absolute, devastating betrayal.
